


The Diamond In The Rough Affair

by girlintheglen



Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Galatea Affair, Gen, The Double Affair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 08:50:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlintheglen/pseuds/girlintheglen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all that glitters is gold, sometimes it's a diamond.  Too many women can be a complication for the men from UNCLE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Diamond In The Rough Affair

“I want you to go on without me, Illya.  I’ll make it out of here somehow, but you need to go ahead and make your escape before you get pinned down by another one of these…”

Just as Napoleon was closing in on his main point, a lovely young thing approached the two UNCLE agents and offered a dance to the blond.  He could hardly turn her down, so with a smirk for his partner and a bow to the redhead who was waiting her turn, Illya took the young woman’s hand and escorted her onto the dance floor.

“Figures.”

Napoleon Solo could grouse with the best of them, and right now he felt a righteous one coming on.  Normally Illya didn’t pose any competition with the ladies, the Russian’s tastes had always run to singularly intense relationships with only one woman rather than the plethora of beauties that Napoleon enjoyed.  To each his own, and if that meant more than one, well… 

“Mr. Solo, is that really you?”

The softly accented voice was tinged with humor and Napoleon knew instantly to whom it belonged.

“Serena, my love.  I was just thinking about you”, he lied smoothly.

The voluptuous auburn haired beauty was smiling that intoxicating, welcoming smile that had lured him at least once into some riotous lovemaking and an equally steamy shower.  The woman was lethal, no matter whose side she was on.

“I highly doubt it, Napoleon.  But I will accept that you were thinking of women in general.  Perhaps we need to work on narrowing your list to, oh I don’t know, perhaps only one or two.”

Serena winked, and the lights suddenly seemed brighter on the chandeliers overhead.  She was quite a woman.

Illya was taking his turns on the dance floor with the sweet young thing who had invited him to share a waltz, but that didn’t keep him from spotting the arrival of the THRUSH femme.  He knew only too well what kind of allure she held; his own experience with Serena during that ballet affair had left him with a healthy respect for the woman.  It was not a thoroughly unpleasant memory.

The crowded ballroom had the effect of a kaleidoscope, twirling and colorful, Illya thought the scene very much like the pictures that could be created in one of those contraptions.  It was a fleeting thought that took his attention only momentarily, and at the end of the dance Illya bowed and made his excuses as he escorted his charming partner to her table.  

There was an abundance of diamonds in the room, creating the effect of continuous sparkling. Diamonds were, in fact, the theme for this evening; a celebration honoring the largest diamond brokerage in New York, Van Meter & Gruen.  UNCLE was here to make certain no one crashed the party, and with the appearance of the lovely Serena, Illya suddenly felt as though the evening’s work was only just beginning.

The Russian debated on whether or not to approach his partner and the lovely THRUSH, his curiosity battling with some other less agreeable considerations.  If Serena were here it must certainly indicate that her employers had some interest in the evening’s theme.  UNCLE had only agreed to this security detail because of the obvious temptation it would prove to some enterprising thieves.  Van Meter & Gruen were hosting this event to unveil a diamond of unparalleled value and significance.  It would rival all of the world’s great gems, and this event had a guest list that included heads of state, royals and celebrities.  

There was no point in playing coy this evening, something that Illya accepted with a deep sigh of resignation.  He walked over to join Napoleon and Serena just as the orchestra was beginning another number.  It was twenty minutes past nine, the main event was scheduled to commence at nine thirty, exactly.

As Illya neared his partner, he spotted another familiar face farther back and in deep conversation with an actor whose name the Russian could not recall. It was funny how certain things escaped his attention, and therefore his memory.

Napoleon watched Serena’s eyes wander from their conversation and then past his shoulder.  Her pupils dilated slightly, making it very difficult for the handsome American to resist turning to see who had caused the effect.

As Illya approached, the perusal he received noted the fine cut of his tuxedo, and the shimmer of light off of his hair.  Not least in her admiration, Serena noted that the blue eyes glinted like the diamonds in this room, a rare cool blue amidst the other less colorful gems.

“Well, well… I should have known that if there was one there would most certainly be the other.”

Serena smiled as she said that line, her gaze running over the two men like cream over a bowl of strawberries. In truth, she would gladly have entertained them both should the situation require her to do so.

Napoleon felt suddenly possessive of the Austrian beauty, his memories of their time together tinged with a certain regret that the woman was THRUSH, and therefore not to be trusted.  He had always suspected that something had occurred between his secretive partner and the stunning redhead.  It was so like the somber Russian to not disclose all of the details, no matter how scrupulously Napoleon worked at pushing him to do so.

Serena felt a sort of dizzying giddiness at her proximity to these two men.  They were both dangerous, savagely attractive in a way only men who lived on the edge could project.  The benefit of their undeniable good looks and certain other attributes caused a wave of something like euphoria to wash over her and she felt a sudden blush on her cheeks. 

 How completely unacceptable for a woman of her experience and talents to become enamored of the enemy.

Napoleon spoke first, his observation of the slight flush tucked away for further inspection at a later date.  Serena wasn’t a woman given to crushes, but he could swear…

“Serena, my love, are you all right?  It’s only Illya.”

A small twinge of a smile caught at the Russian’s lips, just enough to send a message of his own memories, but not enough to give an actual clue.  Even Serena now doubted that he remembered her fondly.

“Mr. Kuryakin, how delightful to see you again.  As usual, your dancing appeared flawless.”

Illya bowed slightly, took her gloved hand and kissed it, lingering a little too long, Napoleon thought.  Yes, he had most certainly missed something.

~~~~~:

At precisely nine thirty, the band queued up with a lively rendition of Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend, complete with a Marilyn Monroe look-a-like doing the singing as she flaunted a hand full of diamond rings in addition to the lavish cluster around her neck.  Illya was struck by the gaudiness of the act, and wondered if this was really and truly the American Dream of which he had heard.  Certainly people would not ever actually strive for this type of falseness in their lives.  

Napoleon was keeping one eye on Serena and the other anticipating the diamond in question.  Van Meter & Gruen had insured a crowd with articles in the newspapers and trade journals, invitations to elite members of society and a boast that their gem was unrivaled in size and beauty.  The unveiling was an unprecedented event within the industry, an invitation to thieves and guests alike.

Martin Gruen, the junior member of the house of Van Meter and Gruen, approached the stage and did a lithe swirl to the music as he grabbed the Marilyn character’s hand and dipped her dramatically, pleasing the crowd and heightening his own enthusiasm for the next phase of his act.  As he straightened and faced his audience, the lights dimmed slightly and he cleared his throat, the preamble to his big reveal.

Two more lovely women in red sequined dresses rolled out an impressive cart that was draped in pale blue silk and trimmed with opulent fringe, cording and tassles.  The effect was of a miniature ottoman, complete with a tufted top that held a large black box.  The audience knew, of course, that within that box was the much heralded diamond for which this evening was being held.  

“Ladies and gentlemen, I take great pleasure in introducing to the world the Mercury Diamond, from Van Meter & Gruen.”

With that and a large sweep of his arm, Martin Gruen pulled off the lid to the black box as the orchestra produced a single chord that grew in intensity as it crescendoed and then crashed, an homage to the latest Beatle’s phenomenon perhaps, A Day In The Life.

Whatever the intended effect, it fell flat as the onlookers emitted a single groan at the sight of an empty space where the Mercury Diamond should have been.

Martin Gruen was caught in his dramatic presentation at mid stride, his arms above his head as he reacted to the lack of response from the audience.  When he finally realized why there was no burst of applause, he looked as though he might pass out.  Another member of the famous diamond house came running up to the stage, as well as several security men.  Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin both turned to look at Serena, who was no longer between them.

“Mmm… is it that obvious, Illya?”

The blond shook his head.  She hadn’t actually taken the diamond, she was right there between them up until the moment of the reveal.

“I do not think so, although suspicion does naturally fall upon her and THRUSH.  My question is, how did these people not keep track of the diamond between the time they loaded it onto the presentation cart, and its arrival on stage?  Certainly someone saw it before this little act began.”

Napoleon was puzzled.  UNCLE’s participation had been merely to observe; it was Van Meter & Gruen’s choice to have their own people in charge, only allowing the UNCLE agents access to the room, not the diamond itself.

“I suggest we go and report to Mr. Waverly before this has an opportunity to gain more momentum.  If THRUSH is involved, we’ll know of it sooner than later, I believe.”

Napoleon nodded, his enjoyment of the evening now completely dashed as he considered how it might have ended had Serena not disappeared, possibly along with the Mercury Diamond.

Chapter 2

Back at UNCLE Headquarters Alexander Waverly was in a foul mood, dismayed at the night’s events.  He had tried in vain to persuade Alistair Van Meter to allow Solo and Kuryakin access to the Mercury Diamond and properly safeguard it for the evening.  The arrogance of the diamond purveyors was such that they felt impregnable, immune almost, to the threat of thievery.  The reply to Waverly’s plea had been almost contemptuous.

‘It is too gauche, so completely unthinkable that anyone should dare to do something as blatant as steal the Mercury Diamond in a public venue.’

“Gauche indeed, my dear Alistair.  I suspect you are repenting of your foolishness now, old friend.”

The pneumatic doors slid open with their signature swoosh as Napoleon and Illya entered, both still in tuxedos and looking for all the world as though the party were still in progress.

“Ah, gentlemen… please, sit down.”

The room was somber, lit to suit the mood of the evening somehow, unlike the appearance it normally held during the day.  A young woman in UNCLE dress appeared with a tray, a coffee carafe and three cups.  

“Thank you Miss Watson.  And please send in Miss… erm, well you know the one.”

Miss Watson nodded her head, answering with a clipped “yes sir” before exiting the office.

Illya and Napoleon checked sideways glances at each other, wondering who, exactly, was being summoned.

The element of surprise was complete as Napoleon took in the lovely woman who entered through the swishing doors.  Illya had seen her earlier in the evening, and had repressed his desire to seek her out and speak with her.

Now, here she stood as all the men in the room admired her entrance, and Napoleon greeted her with a grin that betrayed his attraction to the lovely brunette.

“Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin, I believe you will remember the Baroness Bibi De Chasseur.  She was present at the … um…. event, this evening.”

Bibi had kept her married title in the wake of the Baron De Chasseur’s unfortunate demise.  It was, in fact, at the hands of UNCLE agents who had rescued her from THRUSH.  Mark Slade and Illya Kuryakin, to be exact, had been responsible for her widowhood, something for which she remained grateful. 

For Illya, the Galatea Affair had been one of considerable obstacles, not the least of which the attempted transformation of a Brooklyn barmaid into the image of the very same Countess that stood before them now.  The mission had been a success, toppling yet another THRUSH plot and ridding the Baroness of her duplicitous husband.  There had been a glimmer of attraction between them, but later Illya had noted Mark’s infatuation with her and stepped away.  It was Napoleon who had scored the first date, however, leaving Mark slightly morose over it and unwilling to interfere with his superior’s social life.

Now, looking at Bibi, Illya was remembering tennis lessons and lunch in the garden.  She was a delightful woman, really, and when he had spotted her earlier in the evening, it never occurred to him that she might be involved somehow.

Napoleon rose from his seat and took Bibi’s hand, brushing it lightly with his lips and wondering if perhaps the evening was not a complete loss.

“Bibi, my dear, you look lovely as usual.”

Bibi accepted the greeting with her usual grace, nodding to Illya as he also rose to pull out her chair.  He chose the one in between his and Napoleon’s, circumventing his friend’s expected move to monopolize the lovely woman’s presence.

The maneuvering was interrupted by a harrumph from Mr. Waverly, his patience being tempered but not completely without limits.

“Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin, are you quite done?  If so, we should proceed.”

Napoleon raised an eyebrow and squirmed only a little, the subtle reprimand observed and noted.

“Ah, sir, what exactly is it that Bibi… the Baroness, has to do with this affair?  I’m a little unclear on where this is leading.”

Illya wondered the same thing, especially since Bibi had been at the Mercury event.  She must have been in on this from the beginning, and with only Wavelry’s knowledge.

The old man opened a file and passed it to his number one.

“This, Mr. Solo, is why the Baroness is here with us now. Please take note of the man in the photograph with our guest.”

Napoleon did indeed take note, and passed the folder to his partner.  Illya was surprised to see Bibi in the company of a known THRUSH operative, one of considerable influence.  He had thought her done with that organization of criminals.

Bibi could practically read the agents’ minds, and spoke up in an effort to clear the air of any misconceptions.

“Napoleon, Illya…’

Bibi looked from one to the other, her expression serious.

“I have been working for UNCLE for the past few months.  Alexander, mmm Mr. Waverly, contacted me and ask if I would be willing to make some contacts socially in order to ferret out any information regarding exactly this type of situation.  Since I operate in a rather rare stratosphere of wealthy individuals, I was able to attract that element of THRUSH that is removed from the ordinary worker, if you will.”

Waverly joined in on the narrative now, his eyebrows rising in cadence to his speech.

“The Baroness made contact with Andrew Fitzsimmons, a member of the House of Lords.  He sometimes works for THRUSH, providing information and names for the hierarchy, usually men who are in compromising situations and ripe for blackmail.  He is just one of several like him, entitled and spoiled, without conscience when it comes to this type of traitorous behavior.’

Wavelry paused, his distaste for the man palpable to the others in the room.

“In any case, he is involved somehow with this Mercury Diamond business, and was in the room tonight when the gem disappeared.  It is now up to you three to find the diamond and expose Lord Fitzsimmons once and for all.”

Napoleon and Illya each turned towards Bibi, each man wondering why their superior had chosen to keep her involvement from them.  There seemed to be no end to the Old Man’s secrets, and even at his age they included harboring rendezvous with beautiful women.

“Sir, do you have any suggestions for how we are to proceed?”

Napoleon had to ask, although he anticipated rather accurately the answer he received.

“Mr. Solo, I daresay you and Mr. Kuryakin are well able to construct a plan that will do the job and thwart THRUSH’s plans for the diamond, whatever they might be.  I suggest you go to it, man.  Dismissed.”

With that last word the head of UNCLE Northwest turned his chair around and began looking at a screen that now showed a map of Southeast Asia.

Illya rose first and pulled back Bibi’s chair as Napoleon took her hand and escorted her through the doors and out into the corridor beyond the office.  Illya walked somewhat behind, lagging in enthusiasm as well as speed.   He wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to all of this, but respond they all must.

An English Lord, a world class diamond and the Baroness.  Illya wondered what other surprises awaited him and Napoleon.

Chapter 3

As the doors to Waverly’s office swished closed behind the three, Napoleon, Bibi and Illya converged just beyond the secretary’s desk.  Illya maintained a cool demeanor, his usual one, as Napoleon attempted to charm the Baroness into a nightcap at one of his favorite clubs.

“You are very persuasive, my dear Napoleon.  However, it’s much too late for me and, I believe we are expected to start early tomorrow in our scheme to unravel this THRUSH plot.’

Bibi turned to face Illya, her eyes softening at the sight of him.  This was not the Illya she had known while talking after tennis lessons or lingering over lemonade in the garden.

“Illya, do you have any notion of where we go next?”

The blond caught the expression on Napoleon’s face at that question, and felt a little self-conscious that Bibi should ask him rather than his partner, who would be in charge of this mission.

“Bibi, I believe we would do well to inquire of Napoleon as to his plans for this affair.  Although I realize you know him only socially, if I recall correctly.”

That last was accompanied by a barely discernable smirk.  Illya remembered only too well how deflated Mark had been when Napoleon showed up to escort Bibi to lunch.  He wondered if there might still be some affection harbored by his British friend.

Napoleon returned the smirk, although Bibi missed it entirely.  It wasn’t his fault if he had as much luck with women as he enjoyed in the field.  Bibi certainly hadn’t complained.  Social indeed…

“Yes, well if I recall, we were humming the tune to Getting To Know You by the end of lunch.”

Napoleon winked at Bibi, who responded with her perfect smile.  Inwardly she sighed, the prospect of working with these two men was enough to launch her dreams tonight.

“Do either of you know if Mark is in town?  I would so like to see him again.”

Napoleon almost grimaced at that, while Illya maintained the same expression he donned for almost every circumstance.

“I believe he is out of the country, Bibi.  Perhaps Napoleon knows for how long.”

Napoleon did know for how long, and he considered, for a second or two, that Mark’s return could be delayed just a few days.

“He will be back day after tomorrow, if everything goes as planned.  He and April have been in Vienna, and are finishing the final details of their mission there.  I don’t suppose you’ve met April Dancer, his partner.”

Bibi had heard about her during the time she had spent with Mark, and knew that the two were friends and partners, nothing more.  Still, meeting her would tell her all she needed to know.

The trio had begun walking towards the elevator and Illya pushed the down button now, causing a pause in the conversation.  While they waited, Napoleon posed one more question to Bibi.

“Bibi, what exactly do you foresee as your role, now that the diamond has been stolen?  Are you willing to continue to mix socially with Fitzsimmons?  I assume he has no suspicions about your connection to UNCLE.”

Bibi thought about it briefly, she had assumed things would remain as they had been, especially since she had been the one to identify the Lord Fitzsimmons as the THRUSH lackey he was.

“Napoleon, is there any reason why I shouldn’t continue?  I think it is probably up to me to now introduce you and Illya into this social set.  At least that was my thinking.  Illya, what do you think?”

Once again the Russian had to wonder at her delivering these questions to him.  Perhaps it was because of their previous experience together in the field.  

“I don’t suppose we shall be able to crash into this group without you, Bibi.  I, for one, am ill prepared to be cast as a member of the elite.  Napoleon might pass, I suppose.”

He said that with a smile on his face, and Bibi grinned in agreement.  Napoleon loved playing those parts, and would no doubt be eager to share the stage with the Baroness.

“All right, that’s something we can discuss tomorrow.  Bibi, may we give you a ride home.  Oh, where are you staying?”

The car opened and the three stepped into the grey corridor, headed towards the reception area and presented their badges.

“I believe I have a car waiting, Napoleon, but you’re a dear for offering.  Perhaps you and Illya will come and have breakfast with me in the morning.  I’m at the Waldorf.  Ah, the secret entrance…”

Illya opened the door for them, allowing Bibi and then Napoleon to lead the way through Del Floria’s.  

“Illya, does breakfast with our Baroness sound enticing enough for your appetite?”

Illya rolled his eyes at that.

“I shall be delighted, of course.  Is nine o’clock acceptable, Bibi?”

There was a car waiting for her, a long white sedan with a uniformed driver.  He tipped his cap to the two UNCLE agents as he opened the door for Bibi, something he had apparently done often.

“Nine o’clock is perfect, Illya. Until then… Messieurs, bonne nuit.”

Bibi disappeared into the back seat, her gown following her in with the distinct rustle of silk.  Napoleon stood back as the chauffeur, who remained nameless, finished his duties and reclaimed his place behind the wheel of the luxurious vehicle.

The two men were left standing at the curb, the effects of the Baroness a lingering presence until the car was out of sight.

“So, I guess we’ll see what comes of this new partnership, eh tovarisch.”

“Partnership?  With Bibi?  She is … I wonder why Mr. Waverly didn’t tell us about her involvement sooner?”

Illya’s eyes were dark, the earlier glints of ice blue now a somber shade of grey as he puzzled over this evening’s disclosures.

“I don’t have a clue, Illya.  Surprises are always part of the equation, I suppose.  And I have a feeling there are a few more in store for us.”

Illya supposed that his partner was correct.

Chapter 4

Early the next morning found Bibi rising with the sun, her internal clock in turmoil from traveling across too many time zones.  She decided to take the opportunity to review the events of the past few days, making some notes in her journal when something popped out at her as particularly of interest.  She guarded this journal as carefully as she did her heart, something she had vowed to not be broken again.  

Her thoughts inevitably glided along the corridors of UNCLE, of the two men she had been with the previous evening and the one who had been missing: Mark.  Something significant had happened between the two of them during their time together, and having him close to her as she summoned the strength to acknowledge the treachery of her husband, the Baron de Chausseur, had eased the agony of his deceit.

Now, considering the three men and how different they all were from one another, she wondered at her own inability to say with confidence that she preferred one over another of them.  Not that she considered herself in the market for a man, for that was certainly not the case.  She even laughed at herself in the realization that she assumed each of them would be agreeable to her affections.  Then again, if last night were any indication, Illya and Napoleon had nearly fallen over each other trying to gain her attention.

“Oh, Bibi…’

She sighed.

“You’re on official business now, no time for men; even if they are practically irresistible.”

~~~~~:

At nine o’clock Illya and Napoleon arrived at Bibi’s hotel door, each man looking forward to spending time with the lovely brunette, both of them trying to conceal it.

“So, Mark is due back tomorrow?”

Napoleon nodded, his eyes never leaving the door he was facing. 

 

“Yep, and April too.  Don’t forget Miss Dancer.”

Illya rolled his eyes, the ones also facing Bibi’s door.

“Of course I know April will be with Mark.  I was merely thinking of the reunion that will occur between … Bibi and Mark.  They did spend quite a lot of time together during that affair.  The mission affair, not…”

Now Napoleon had to cut a glance in his partner’s direction.  What was this all about?

Before he could ask the question, the door opened and Bibi greeted them with a brilliant smile that made them each forget their conversation as she welcomed them into her suite.

Napoleon kissed her on the cheek, relishing the idea that she purred with pleasure in return.  Illya greeted her with more reserve, disinclined to mimic his partner’s familiar gesture.

“Gentlemen, you make the start of the day even more welcome.  So tell me, what have you decided is our next move?”

As Bibi spoke she was directing them into the living area of the suite where a tan damask sofa was flanked by two Bergère chairs upholstered in a tan and black toile depicting a farm scene.  Illya took note of the fabric and the depiction of two men and one woman in the fields, an irony not lost on the Russian.

“This is a beautiful suite, Bibi.  It suits you.”

Illya’s remark was timed perfectly, the nuances of the compliment at once reticent and forward.  Napoleon was impressed, as was Bibi.

“Illya, you are such a dear.  I love it here, it almost reminds me of home.”

A wistful look crossed her face as Bibi made that remark, and Napoleon took the opportunity to take her hand in a consoling manner.

“Bibi?  Why don’t we order some breakfast and get on with our planning session.”

“What? Oh, no need Napoleon.  I made arrangements already, and breakfast should be …’

The rap on the door stopped Bibi mid sentence.

“Oh, that must our breakfast.  Illya, will you please get that?”

Illya went to the door as asked, but not without checking his gun, something Napoleon was mirroring as Bibi looked on, the reality of their lives intruding on the pleasantness of the morning.

“Okay Illya, open the door.”

With Napoleon standing ready and Bibi watching them both, Illya opened the door to the suite.  To everyone’s surprise, the person at the door was Mark Slate.  The smile on his face betrayed the anticipation he must have felt at seeing Bibi again, and he walked into the suite with his eyes on her, brushing past Illya and nodding to Napoleon.

“Hello Bibi.  You look fantastic, as always.”

The brunette beamed, as much as a baroness can afford to beam.  She really did have a fondness for the Brit.

“And you, Mark.  It’s been too long.”

“It has indeed, luv.  I think I’ve interrupted your meeting with Napoleon and Illya.”

Mark tried to look apologetic, but he was failing miserably.  He couldn’t feel sorry for this, he had dreamed of seeing Bibi again, even if under these circumstances.

Napoleon was curious about the timing, and a little miffed that he hadn’t been informed of the change in Mark and April’s schedule.

“Mark, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.  Is April with you?”

“April’s taking care of the car, she’ll be up in a few.  We finished early and caught the first flight out.  I have to say the travel was exhausting, but it’s worth it now…”

Mark was looking at Bibi again while Illya and Napoleon watched the two of them.  If Napoleon had thought Illya was his competition for the lovely Baroness, he now had another view of the situation.  

“Shall we get down to business then?  I believe we have a very valuable diamond to track down, and some thieves who need to be apprehended … sooner than later.”

Illya was about to speak when Napoleon’s communicator warbled its tune, causing everyone to turn towards the Chief Enforcement Agent.

“Open channel D, Solo here.”

“Mr. Solo, is your team assembled there with you?”

“Yes sir, and Mr. Slate has just joined us.”

“Yes, and Miss Dancer as well, I hope.  They have been assigned to this affair.  Some new developments have made it necessary to augment your personnel with them.  I expect you will find their presence of great value.”

“Sir, what exactly has changed since last night?”

“Lord Fitzsimmons was found dead this morning in his hotel room.  This is now a murder investigation in addition to the theft of the Mercury Diamond.”

Bibi paled noticeably at the news of Fitzsimmons death.  She hadn’t liked the man, but hearing of his murder was disturbing and a little frightening.

“Sir, should we all proceed back to headquarters?  We were about to sit down for a strategy session….”

“No, no Mr. Solo.  You must return here after Mr. Slade and Miss Dancer have filled you in.”

“Yes sir.  We’ll all be there as soon as we hear their brief.”

“Very well, Mr. Solo.  Please try and have a plan ready when you walk through the doors.  Waverly out.”

Mark cleared his throat, mindful that he should have mentioned the news about Fitzsimmons when he walked through the door to the suite.

“Well, there you have it.  Fitzsimmons appears to have been shot, but there will be an autopsy.”

Another knock on the door had three men drawing their guns.  Bibi walked over to it and pulled it open, and found herself face to face with a striking redhead in a mini-skirt and turtleneck sweater.  This had to be April Dancer.

“Hi all!  You must be the Baroness de Chausseur, and I am…”

“April Dancer.  I’ve heard so much about you.  Please, come in and join us.  We’ve just heard the awful news about Lord Fitzsimmons.”

Napoleon and Illya both greeted April, aware of the new dynamic among this very select group of people.   

“So, shall we get down to business?”

Napoleon needed to rein in whatever emotional elements were threatening to undo his team.  Mark was obviously smitten by Bibi, and she was certainly interested, or at least had a warm feeling towards him.  April must know how her partner felt about the Baroness, although she was professional enough to not let it alter how she treated the woman.  

Just when Napoleon thought this case couldn’t become more complicated because of who was investigating, the door sounded once more.

“That has to be breakfast.  Everyone else is here already.”

Illya once more went to the door while the other three UNCLE agents prepared themselves for whatever or whoever, might be on the other side.  

Not one of them would have guessed the right answer.

Chapter 5

Illya’s expression remained cool as he greeted the woman standing in the hall.  Everyone else in the room retained a similar professional calm, except for Bibi.  She had seen this woman talking with Napoleon and Illya at the event the previous evening, and knew her to be someone of interest to the investigation.

“Good morning, Serena.  Won’t you come in and join us?”

Illya stood back so that Serena could walk past him easily, her gaze going first to Napoleon and then perusing the room as she sauntered in, ignoring the obvious question as she thanked the blond.

“So nice to see you, Illya.  And you, Napoleon.  Perhaps you will introduce me to your friends.”

Napoleon cleared his throat and gave a sideways glance towards Mark and April, caught the expression on his partner’s face and then faced Serena with the patent Solo smile.

“Serena, how lovely to have you… here.  Why,  exactly, are you here, if I may ask?”

She smiled like a predator; there was no mistaking it.  April felt a tangible sense of … well, something she wasn’t sure of.  This woman was dangerous, and she instinctively felt a wave of concern for all of the men in the room.  Bibi was similarly affected, although she lacked the training to understand just how dangerous a female THRUSH agent could be.

“Please, you should not all feel so defensive of my presence.  I am here to help you find the Mercury Diamond.”

Illya made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort of derision, and Napoleon merely made a tisking sound as he walked toward Serena and took her coat.  He leaned in, nearly close enough to touch her ear with his lips when he spoke.

“Serena my love, you have some ulterior motive for being here.  Why don’t you just tell me … tell us… what it is.”

“Napoleon, why don’t you just believe me?  I really do want to help.  THRUSH did not take the diamond.  I promise you, it is the truth.”

Illya was not easily convinced, especially when the emissary was Serena.  

“And we are to simply accept your word on this and proceed how?  You were there, and when the diamond was discovered missing, you were also gone.”

Serena merely smiled at the Russian, letting her mind wander to another time…

“Illya, think about it.  When I saw the empty container, I knew that you and Napoleon would suspect me.  I had to leave, for my own sake, I assure you.  We were not involved in this.”

Napoleon was scrutinizing Serena along with the other people in the room.  If there was one thing he knew about this woman, it was her ability to survive by using her wits.  

“It still doesn’t explain why you’re here now, and why …”

Bibi jumped in before Napoleon could finish.  This was her suite, her affair.  Affairs.  Oh, damnit, who was this woman anyway?

“I think what we all want to know, Serena is it?  What we all want to know is why we should believe you.  You are THRUSH, and with the missing Mercury Diamond and the death of Lord Fitzsimmons…”

Now it was Serena who interrupted.

“What?  Lord Fitzsimmons is dead.  I … I promise you I had nothing to do with that.  This is not a THRUSH operation.  Someone else has engineered this entire thing.  Poor Andrew…”

Serena look genuinely stricken by the news of Fitzsimmons demise.  Bibi was struck by that as well, wondering what everyone else wondered about the relationship between the two.  

April was the next voice in this conflagration.

“So, Serena… you have no knowledge of where the diamond is now?   Why did you come here unless you had information to help us find it?”

Mark was looking at Bibi, wondering why she cared about Serena’s involvement with Fitzsimmons.  Had she been involved with him?

Illya was watching Mark look at Bibi, and Napoleon was trying to figure out what the heck he was going to tell Mr. Waverly about this unusual meeting.

“We need to get back to headquarters.  Mr. Waverly is waiting for us, and we need some answers and a course of action.  Serena, what can you tell us about all of this?  And, like April, I want to know why you came here.”

A great sigh escaped her lips, and Serena looked from one face to the next until she had completely read the room and the people in it.

“I came here to help in any way that I can.  THRUSH is capable of many things, and I am not likely to change my affiliation.  But we are not responsible for this, and we don’t need UNCLE coming after us for something we didn’t do.  I think you should look a little closer to the source, Mr. Solo, and see what you find there.”

Illya rolled his eyes and huffed involuntarily.  This was turning into a circus.

“If THRUSH is not involved, are you suggesting then that the perpetrators are the house of Van Meter and Gruen?  Or someone who works for them?  It is such an obvious suggestion that I am almost persuaded to believe it could be true.”

“What do you mean Illya?  You aren’t going to take her word for it, are you?”

Bibi was not at all convinced.  She didn’t like this woman, and she didn’t like how familiar she was with Illya and Napoleon.  It came as a revelation to her that she was jealous, and immediately set upon the task of denying it.

Mark moved in and put his hand on Bibi’s shoulder in an attempt to calm her.  He saw the effect that Serena was having on the Baroness and didn’t like it.  He didn’t much like Serena.

The entire scene captivated April.  She was quite certain that there was a triangle, or a rectangle perhaps, involving at least one of these women.  How did they have time for this and saving the world too?  She was going to have to start making room for romance.

It was time for the communicator to sound off again, and Napoleon uncapped his and answered.

“Uh, yes… Solo here.”

“Mr. Solo, are you planning on coming back to headquarters any time soon, or have you found something else of more importance to fill your morning?”

“Oh, no sir.  No, nothing more important, merely a … well, a new development on this end.  We are being… well, you see…”

“Yes, I should very much like to see something, Mr. Solo.  Fill me in when you arrive.  And, Mr. Solo, I expect that to be very soon.”

Napoleon turned to face the others and made a quick decision.

“Let’s all go.  You too, Serena.  You’ll not be taken into custody, just come with us and we’ll all sit down and discuss things together, in Mr. Waverly’s office.  I’m sure you’ll find him… charming.”

Serena smiled, a knowing sort of smile that made all of the men in the room distinctly uncomfortable.  April and Bibi looked at each other and without words reached an agreement.  

Three men, three women, UNCLE and THRUSH.  There were some secrets in this room, and they were of much more interest than who stole the Mercury Diamond.  

Much more.

Chapter 6

It took forty minutes to get everyone out of Bibi’s hotel suite, into Mark’s car and one taxi (Napoleon felt the need to escort Serena personally), and back to UNCLE Headquarters.

When this group entered Mr. Waverly’s office it was without flourish but with a certain amount of consternation on the part of the head of UNCLE Northwest.  Characteristically, he showed no reaction to seeing a THRUSH agent alongside his top man, merely motioned for them all to sit before demanding some type of report on their activities so far.

“Ah, Mr. Solo, I see you have … well, quite an entourage, it seems.  Perhaps you would care to introduce me to…”

Waverly motioned towards the other auburn haired beauty in the room; the one who wasn’t an UNCLE agent.

“Oh, yes sir, this is… Serena.  She believes she has some information for us that might be… um… helpful.  That is, she is adamant that THRUSH is not involved with the theft.”

Waverly raised his eyebrows, the look of innocent disbelief a ruse of some sort in front of this assembly of agents and… strangers.

“I see. And, how is it exactly, Mr. Solo…er… that this young woman…’

The wily old man nodded his deference to the lovely siren.

“How does she know about THRUSH, or their involvement in this affair?”

Napoleon swallowed… Hard.  Illya watched all of this with the same expressionless face, while both April and Mark studied the situation for whatever use it might have in the future.  Squaring off in front of the old man with a THRUSH agent in tow took guts, something every UNCLE agent needed in spades.  

Bibi seemed the only one who was impatient for the proceedings to gain some group interaction.  She didn’t trust Serena, and was betting that THRUSH was involved in spite of the woman’s protests to the contrary.

Serena merely sat quietly with a smile on her face that reminded Illya a little of the Mona Lisa.  She knew something and wasn’t telling; at least not just yet.

Napoleon spoke up, his resolve regarding duty battling against his desire to not reveal yet another THRUSH femme to his superior.  He already had endured a series of lectures regarding another dangerous liaison with the blonde.  It wasn’t enough that Illya detested the woman; Waverly had also weighed in on his objections.  And now, here was Serena…

“Mr. Waverly, sir… Well you see, Serena is a …”

“A THRUSH agent.  Yes, Mr. Solo, I know exactly who she is.  I see we need to have another chat on the subject, but that will have to wait until later, I’m afraid.  For now, perhaps you can enlighten me as to why I should believe her… I beg your pardon, Miss?”

Serena cooed with pleasure at the attention, and replied to Waverly’s request for a name beyond…

“Serena, sir.  Simply Serena.”

Waverly harrumphed at that, while April mumbled beneath her breath.

“Who does she think she is, a rock star?”

Bibi heard it and laughed, forgetting momentarily the gravity of the situation and the stern countenance of Alexander Waverly.

Now it was Serena’s turn, and she stood up to speak, both for effect and the pure pleasure of knowing all eyes were on her.

“Mr. Waverly, gentlemen and… ladies…’

The ladies bristled at the pause, but the men obediently let their eyes rest on the shapely woman as she walked to stand in front of one of the two windows in Waverly’s office.  Illya wondered at her posturing, the location she had chosen for whatever was coming next.  

No one else seemed very interested in that question however, and when Serena opened her mouth to speak, they were concentrating on her, and her alone.  Only Illya let his eyes go beyond her, possibly because of where he was sitting in relation to the window.  It was only a flash, but he saw something glint in the distance and, almost too late, realized with clarity just why Serena had maneuvered this meeting.

Before anyone else realized what was happening, Illya jumped from his seat and dove across the big round table at which everyone was seated, sliding towards Mr. Waverly even as the surprised man was attempting to dodge the Russian’s acrobatic moves.  

Napoleon was the next to understand the situation, and with the same projectile precision he launched himself towards Serena before she could race across the room and escape.  April quickly blocked one side even as her partner Mark completed the noose that was ready to tighten around the clever THRUSH agent.

Bibi sat transfixed by the action, her attention finally being riveted to Illya’s moves as he plunged into his superior and they both went tumbling to the floor just as a red laser beam shot through the window and across where Waverly had been sitting.

 

Serena was surrounded now, but she held onto that same calm demeanor as she raised her hands in mock surrender, the complexity of her situation causing no outward reaction.  Internally there was a battle raging as she sought to find a means of escaping this very unfortunate circumstance.

Illya had managed to remove Mr. Waverly from harm, but the chair in which the agency head had sat was a smoldering mass of leather and wood.  Illya himself had sustained a burn as he was tumbling to the floor; the laser nicked him on his back, burning through his suit jacket and shirt.

“Mr. Kuryakin, you should go immediately to Medical and let them treat this injury.  Now would be expedient, I think.”

Illya agreed, although he had suffered worse.  It was painful, and in response to his injury both Bibi and April were at his side helping him to remove his smoking jacket.

“Ouch.”

April took the ruined garment, while Bibi inspected the red gash beneath the equally damaged shirt.  The edge of Illya’s holster had also been in the line of the laser, causing a large nick in the leather that had probably ruined it as well.

“I think your holster probably saved you from worse injury, Illya.  I bet that hurts like … “

Illya grimaced, cutting off whatever else April was going to say.

“Yes, it does a little.  Napoleon?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it handled.  Go down to Medical, I’ll fill you in later.”

With that the blond took his jacket and headed out of the office.  As the doors closed behind him, Napoleon was escorting Serena back to her chair, with the others close by and anxious to hear her story.  Mark had sat down at the console to receive updates from the activity involved in capturing the THRUSH who had obviously engineered this attack.  A detail of agents from Sections II and III had been dispatched to investigate where the laser was located, and their quick response was netting a nest of birdies that had been too slow to dismantle their laser.

Serena was silent, and no amount of glares from neither Napoleon nor Waverly was disrupting her determination to remain so.  It was all over now, and in spite of the way she had managed to wiggle out of that Double Affair without injury, she had no such hopes now.  She had been caught, literally, red handed.

Mark was on the communicator at the rear of Waverly’s now ruined chair, and his voice interrupted Napoleon’s silent intimidation of the woman who had signaled the attack.

“Word is coming back to us now sir.  They have three suspects, the laser and…’

Mark stopped as he listened to the rest of the report.  As he turned to face the others, he broke out into a smile.

“They have recovered the Mercury Diamond, sir.  It was being used in the laser.”

His voice held a certain amount of awe as he repeated the details of what he was hearing.  

Napoleon turned again to Serena.

“So, THRUSH wasn’t involved, eh?  Me thinks thou dost protest too much, Serena.  Nice try, but I guess you really failed this time.’

Napoleon looked at Serena with a degree of regret, the image of her behind bars was difficult even for him; she deserved it, but it was hard to imagine.

“Mark, please have an agent sent up here to escort our guest to an interrogation room.  Serena, I’ll see you later.”

In mere minutes the doors swished open and two Section III agents arrived to escort Serena away.  She looked back at Napoleon, one last attempt to sway his emotions but without the conviction she might have once felt.  He had lost the look in his eyes that told her he might be lenient.

April and Bibi shared a glance that confirmed their agreement once again that the lovely THRUSH agent had been suspect all along.  Bibi was concerned about Illya, and decided to go check on him while Mr. Waverly and his real agents handled the final details of this dreadful affair.

“Mr. Waverly, I believe one of us should go and check on poor Mr. Kuryakin.  If you don’t need me here, I shall go down to Medical and… make certain he is being treated properly.”

She smiled sweetly as she rose from her chair, the other all returning the expression as they watched her leave the room.

“Poor Mr. Kuryakin…’

April realized she had spoken aloud and looked sheepishly at her superior, both of them actually, before slinking back into her chair.  

Napoleon smiled, his trademark weapon back on duty now that the ruckus was over.  Mark was slightly peeved that Bibi had gone off in search of the Russian, but a harrumph  from Mr. Waverly soon brought everyone back to the matter at hand.

“Mr. Solo, I assume that you will be interrogating Miss, er … Serena.  Doesn’t that woman have a last name for me to utilize?”

Napoleon shook his head absently, realizing that the woman always identified herself only as Serena.

“No sir, I don’t believe she does.”

April almost snorted.  Like she said earlier, the woman thought she was a rock star.

Down in Medical, Illya was stripped down to his trousers while the doctor examined the laser burn.  It wasn’t severe, but an antibiotic cream was applied and a light bandage covered it now.  Bibi knocked on the door, her boldness in this place surprising even herself.

“May I come in, doctor?”

Dr. Wilson looked at Illya, who nodded his head as a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth.  When Bibi entered the doctor realized why the smile had escaped the usually dour Russian.

“Illya, my darling, are you going to be all right?  That was such a heroic antic you pulled upstairs.  I was quite frightened, really, and I must say am totally off being an agent now.”

Illya took all of that in, wondering just what it was that she wanted from him.  He knew that Mark still had feelings for her, and wondered if she were playing each of them against the other on purpose, or if she were truly that unaware.  He doubted the latter.

“Bibi, thank you for your concern, but I am fine, really.  It’s only a small burn…”

Bibi was admiring the view as the shirtless blond stood up, unintentionally flexing muscles in an attempt to dispel the discomfort of his back.  Bibi didn’t remember seeing him like this before…

“Oh, well… um… I just couldn’t bear to think of you being hurt.  They’ve taken Serena away.  I believe Napoleon is going to be occupied for quite a long time.  Interrogation, that’s what Mr. Waverly said.”

Illya merely nodded.  Napoleon would want him standing ready, he supposed.  Just in case.

“What about Mark… and April?”

That seemed to catch Bibi off guard.  She did so adore Mark, and now she wondered if coming down here had been a mistake.  She wasn’t supposed to show favorites, and this might be misconstrued.

“Oh, they were all sitting around that big table, discussing the case.  I believe that Mark and April are to return the Mercury Diamond to Van Meter & Gruen, or so it sounded to me… Illya?”

The blond was tired, the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off and his back ached and his head hurt.  

“What is it, Bibi?”

Bibi needed to know just one thing, and then she would have to do some self-examination.  Emotions were such a bother.

“Do you think that you and I… us, together…?”

Illya dreaded conversations like this.  He did enjoy Bibi’s company, but like so many other women, they fantasized a relationship with UNCLE agents without considering the cost.

“Bibi, I do not own my life.  It belongs to UNCLE, and as long as I am an active agent, my entire being is dedicated to fulfilling my job.  Can you understand that?”

Tears welled up in Bibi’s eyes.  She did know this, and of course it applied to all three of these wonderful men.  Napoleon and Mark as well as Illya.  How did they bear it, she wondered.  And April.  How did a woman relinquish her heart in order to serve this organization?

“We do it because we believe.  The sacrifices are worth it because they make a difference.  In the meantime…”

Bibi cut him off before he could finish.  Her heart just could not bear to hear him speak any more of this.

“Perhaps just dinner, then.  My treat, for everyone.  I’m rich, you know.”

A new voice came from the doorway.

“Dinner?  That sounds great to me, and I think we can count on Mark and April being there as well.”

Napoleon came into the room and put his arm around the petite brunette, and kissed her on the cheek in a companionable way.

Bibi would never truly understand what UNCLE meant to these agents.  She had helped out with Fitzsimmons, but she lacked the dedication that was evident in the four people here.  

“Dinner it is, then.  Shall we say eight o’clock?”

Napoleon and Illya caught each other’s eyes and nodded.  April and Mark were standing outside the door now, on the way to retrieve the Mercury Diamond and take it back to its owners.

“We’re in too, luv.  Just don’t start without us.”

Bibi beamed with pleasure.  Better to have friends than a broken heart.  And these four were her friends now.

Still, she did have time for another look before Illya put his shirt back on.


End file.
